Love, American Style
by Call me Red
Summary: This is what happens when one consumes too much chocolate in the wee hours of the morn.


  
Disclaimer: No, I ain't gonna do it! They're mine, I tell ya, all mine! Sorry, got a little sidetracked for a second there. A thousand apologies. Not mine. All theirs. But you just wait...okay, sorry.   
  
  
  
  
Love, American Style  
  
  
  
In a mansion tucked away in the countryside of Westchester, New York, a happy team of friends were munching on their breakfast.   
  
Of course, they were not ordinary folk. No, where would that leave our tale? No, these particular clan were made up of homosuperiors, or mutants. Yes, they were very powerful; the 'special' people, if you will.   
  
So on this fine morning, amidst the cheerful chatter of a contented household, the mutant known to his friends as Logan, strolled in, fresh from an early dip in the pool.   
  
"Mornin' everyone," he chirped, promptly grabbing Jean, looking impossibly lovely and angelic despite the early hours.   
He then proceeded to make wild, passionate monkey love to her, right there on the kitchen table.   
  
Rogue was not amused. One of those kooks was rollin' round on the butter. And her scone was gettin' cold.   
  
Ororo tried time and again to avoid these writhing bodies on the table, but could not succeed. Finally, fed up with the impossibility, she took action. "Remy, could you be so kind to hand me the salt?" Remy, who was busy taking notes, quickly passed over the condiment.   
  
Scott, the ever handsome, dashing hero, entered the kitchen, a little late for his usual arrival time. Immediately his face clouded over.   
  
"Hey!" he shouted angrily. "Where's my waffle?"   
  
Hank, kept busy by attempting to salvage his newspaper from the crush, looked at the leader apologetically. "Terribly sorry, my old friend. I seem to have taken it."   
  
Bobby handed Scott his plate. "Take mine, please. I think I've seen enough." He hurried off to tell his horny adolescent friends of the show being put on in the kitchen for free.   
  
Logan paused, taking a break from his frenzied craze to look up at Scott. He coughed to get his attention. "Well?"   
  
"What?" Scott looked genuinely stumped from behind his mug of steaming hot coffee.   
  
Logan, despite the protest of a dishevelled (yet still radiant) Ms. Grey, sat up. "I'm ravaging your woman, Laser Boy. So...?"   
  
"So...?" He held up to hands as if to dismiss the notion. "Don't let me bother you."   
  
At this, Logan promptly leapt off the table, much to relief of Rogue and her rapidly cooling scone. "But...ain't ya mad? And full of...what's the word?"   
  
"Angst?" Ororo offered.   
  
"Yeah, that's it." He dismissed a softly whimpering Jean. "Ain't ya?"   
  
Scott paused, thoughtfully, for a moment. "No, not really."   
  
Looks like Logan would have to re-evaluate his plan. Or just go back to making out with the pretty lady again.   
  
So he grabbed a very obliged Jean and proceeded where they had left off. He pushed her up against the wall where Scott was trying to quietly finish his coffee. Finally, Scott had to know.   
  
"Okay, what did I do now?"   
  
Logan detached himself from her again. "Finally!" Jean tugged impatiently on his shirt. "You borrowed the 'cycle and didn't fill the tank!"   
  
"It's mine anyway. And you were the one who left it empty."   
  
"Oh." Logan realized, with a frown, the guy was right. "Okay then." He grabbed Jean and excused himself, planning to resume their earlier 'conversation' in his upstairs room.   
  
"Hang on," Scott called, catching up with him. "You don't have an excuse to hog Jean anymore."   
  
Logan shook his head. "Sure I do." He grinned at her. "She's a special gal."   
  
Jean blushed and inched closer to him.   
  
Logan smiled. It had worked. "Now, if you'll excuse us, the little lady and I have a little discussion we'd like to resume."   
  
Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Professor Xavier appeared. With a stern look to all parties, he quickly asked, "What seems to be the problem here?"   
  
Scott pouted. "Logan took Jean and now he won't give her back."   
Xavier cast a firm glance Logan's way. "Now, Logan, is that the correct way to share?"   
  
Logan's eyes were on his feet. "No, Professor." But he quickly retaliated with a stunning argument, displaying his little used legal finesse. "He started it!"   
  
Xavier nodded, well versed in this sticky type of situation. Thoughtfully, he rubbed his shiny bald head. He took a moment to glance from Scott, to Logan, and finally to Jean, who, despite the short, unresolved tryst she had shared with the shorter one, still boasted perfect, shiny hair.   
  
"I know precisely how to handle this," Xavier assured them, and, after seeing that all exits were blocked from escape, realized he'd have to come up with something. "Since we obviously won't come to any agreements with you two manning the argument, I conclude we'll have to simply slice Jean down the middle, so that you'll both have an equal share."   
  
Scott and Logan, having looked from each other to the prize in question, considering the solution.   
  
"That seems okay to me," Scott volunteered.   
  
"Sounds like a plan, Chucko," Logan agreed. The two men shook hands, delighted to have reached such a dazzling solution.   
  
"No, no! You're not supposed to both want that! Only the one who truly loves Jean is willing to sacrifice her to the other man. Get it? So she won't have to die???" Xavier thumped his head loudly. Legs were wasted on these people.   
  
"But it all works out this way, you see?" Logan seemed so pleased with himself that he appeared to be...smiling. Scott nodded in sync.   
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" The beautiful Jean finally had her first sentence of the day. "You're both very sick people."   
  
"Aww, come on, baby," Scott persuaded. "It's a fool proof plan."   
  
"If we do it, I'll die!"   
  
"Won't last long," Logan piped up from his place.   
  
"That's true," Charles added. The girl had more lives than a fat French cat.   
  
Jean was hit by a sudden and swift revelation. She was living with idiots.   
  
"Here's one, and I think this will be even better!" Jean spouted with exaggerated enthusiasm. "But first, you all have to close your eyes and count to a hundred and three." They quickly obeyed, eager to hear the suggestion of their beloved.   
  
Jean just sadly shook her head as she grabbed her coat and scribbled a quick note explaining to 'Ro where to send her things. Chromosomes were wasted on some people.   
  
And the three men opened their eyes (cheating of course, because Scott had only reached 23, Logan 34, and Xavier had tried to cheat by reading their minds, which proved little success. He had to start all over again) hearing the roar of a departing motorcycle engine and the whirr of the electronic gate.   
  
"Hey," Logan noticed slowly. "Where'd she go?"   
  
"Probably to draw a diagram," Scott suggested.   
  
His two companions had to agree. After all, what made more sense? They settled in, waiting for Jean to return.   
  
They're still there, by the way.   
  
  
THE END  
  



End file.
